I Was Saved... by the Jerkface

Ice Skating!

Once we finally got all the mess, I gave Cookie her food and grabbed my warm, fluffy coat. I slipped my feet into my Uggs and stood by the door. "Come on, slow poke!" I shouted at Blake, mostly just to be annoying.

"Put on your scarf," Blake reminded me. "You always get cold."

"Oh, yeah!" I exclaimed, running into my room to get my warm wool scarf out of my closet. I came back into the living room and huffed. "That was a close one."

He sniggered at me, and then went to put some shoes on. He came back wearing a tight grey v-neck t-shirt, his usual dark jeans and black boots. Might I say the boots made him look extremely badass.

"I like the boots," I told him, bumping his shoulder as we headed out the door.

"Why thank you, pretty lady," he replied, putting on a fake southern accent.

I giggled. "You look so badass." I smiled up at him, scrunching my nose. He knew I was just joking with him. It was a thing we had taken to doing lately - that is, me saying something that sounds like I wasn't joking with him, yet he totally knew I was. It was like we could read each others' minds. It was also how I knew that half the stuff he said wasn't to insult me.

"Again, thank you. There is a method to my madness, I promise," he said to me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" I focused on going down the concrete stairs outside my apartment building. The ice had built up overnight, and it was extremely slippery.

I lost my footing on the third step down, and I yelped, panicking. Blake heard my outburst and reflexively reached out his arm to steady me. I grabbed it, and once I got my footing back I could feel the heat burning on my cheeks, even though it was freezing out. "Sorry," I said to him quickly, averting my gaze and concentrating on making it down the last few stairs.

"Not your fault," he told me graciously, and let me hold onto his warm, muscular arm while we went down the stairs. "Now back to what I was saying."

"Ah yes, before I ruined it," I laughed, rolling my eyes at my stupid clumsiness.

"You're fine," he said, continuing. "There is a reason I have these boots, and it's not just to look badass when I'm walking outside in the winter."

I laughed at that. "Then what is it?"

"Well, you've only been friends with me for, what, about two months now? You've never been with me in the summer."

"Your point being?" I asked, not seeing where this was going. We continued on our path through the city, going down into the slightly-warmer subway tunnels to catch a train to Rockefeller Center.

"My point is... well maybe I'll just let you figure it out. You have to remember to ask me about it in the summer, though," he said vaguely, paying for our two one-way tickets and leading me towards the loading platform.

"What? No, I'm never going to remember in the summer!" I insisted, tugging on his arm once we were standing still, waiting for our train.

"Fine then, I'll remind you," he said, staring at the noisy, incoming train. It was ours, so he drug me into it quickly, and then we continued our conversation.

"Blake, please?" I begged him, about to resort to giving him the puppy dog face.

"Belle, just drop it," he said. His nickname for me almost made me drop my argument, but not quite. Only my family called me Belle. Not even Gabby was allowed to call me it. This is the first I've heard him say it.

I stuck to my plea. "Blake, why won't you just tell me, it can't be that big of a secret?"

"It's not, I promise. I just want you to be excited when you find out... It's just... ugh fine! You're making me sound stupid," he caved, glaring at me.